


Cold Hands

by markipwiwer



Category: Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Cuddles, M/M, Rain, soft fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 06:39:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19435972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markipwiwer/pseuds/markipwiwer
Summary: Dark and Wilford snuggle in on a rainy night.





	Cold Hands

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes you just gotta write some easy cute shit to get rid of writers block

Wilford threw the cover over both himself and Dark, propping himself up on a mound of pillows, and moving to hold Darks hands.

“Your hands are freezing, Darkling.”

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s true!”

“Well, why don’t you warm them up?”

Wilford giggled at that. The rain pattered away against the window that night, and the sound was so comforting. It felt so cozy, so romantic to be snuggled into bed with his husband.

Taking the challenge, Wilford took Darks hands and held them against his stomach, his most constant source of heat. Dark couldn’t help but play with the little tuft of hair that sat just about Wilfords belly button.

“Hey, that tickles!”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“No, I really don’t mind. Whatever makes you comfortable, my love.”

Wilford was always like this. Just full of love and care and passion, even in the most simple moments. Even when he couldn’t see Darks face properly, nothing illuminating the scene but the moon outside attempting to shine through the grey clouds.

Wilford had too big of a heart for just one person and yet, when it was just the two of them alone together, he made Dark feel like he was the only thing in the world that mattered. It gave Dark chills, that Wilford cared so much, and never seemed to get bored of him.

After all these years, after everything they’d been through together, Wilford still managed to surprise him every day. His unpredictability shone through, not just in his chaotic acts of destruction, but in his showing of affection too.

Contrasted with Dark, who sometimes felt he was completely incapable of love and completely undeserving of any compassion, who often stayed emotionally distant and put up walls to avoid hurting himself or others, Dark had to question every now and then if he deserved Wilford.

“You’re thinking too much again.”

“What? Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to get sidetracked.”

Wilford had been watching in the darkness for Darks shoulders to drop, not in comfort but in sadness and doubt. Wilford picked up on Darks runaway thoughts the second they’d pulled out of the station, and he reeled them right back in again.

“No need to apologise. Your brain is awfully silly sometimes.”

“Pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?”

“At least I admit that my mind is silly.”

There wasn’t much else to say. They weren’t going to have a big conversation about it tonight. Tonight was about feeling good and content, about feeling loved. Even if Dark wasn’t worthy, he certainly felt loved.

Wilford leaned in, the covers crinkling and their breathing and the rain pouring outside the only sounds in the universe as he kissed Dark. It was gentle, ridiculously romantic, and not even that long. But it was plenty.

“I love you, Darkling.”

“I love you too, Wil. Is it finally time for sleep?”

“Perhaps. Would you like to be the little spoon?”

Dark nodded, grateful for the lack of light as he felt his face flush just slightly.


End file.
